


Unexpected Parallels

by eelkonig



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Gen, it could be read as romance i guess but i didn't write it with that in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eelkonig/pseuds/eelkonig
Summary: Link pondered for a moment; there was something strange about this weapon. Perhaps it was the way the blade twisted and distorted whatever it reflected; perhaps it was the similarity as well as stark contrast to the Master Sword, hanging silently on his back. Whatever it was, something about this sword unsettled him.Well, it couldn’t be worse than wielding a skeletal Moblin arm, right?--Halfway through his journey, Link gains a new companion. Said new companion is not pleased with his new owner.They're more alike than they think.
Relationships: Ghirahim & Link (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	Unexpected Parallels

**Author's Note:**

> hello it's me with "ghirahim and link would get along if they weren't forced to fight each other" propaganda
> 
> thank you to hine (@hinezumi on tumblr) for proofreading and the title yet again i would die for you
> 
> pls enjoy

The sun was hanging at its halfway point in the sky as Link approached Dueling Peaks Stable. He’d just returned from Hateno after getting some much-needed adjustments made to his Sheikah Slate, and on impulse he decided to take a short break and get more supplies before heading on towards the desert. Only Naboris and Medoh remained now; he was halfway done with his quest, though it didn’t really feel like it.

Link slid off his horse, making sure to give her an apple before he moved on. Shortcake wasn’t the fastest or sturdiest horse out there, but she’d never let him down before. As he walked toward the stable, he noticed a familiar beetle-shaped backpack, as well as its owner flagging him down out of the corner of his eye.

“Hello there, Link!” Beedle greeted as he approached the young hero. “I just wanted to let you know that I found something that might interest you!”

Link’s eyes lit up with curiosity as he turned to the shopkeeper, who was busy slinging his backpack off of his shoulders. “A customer gave it to me in exchange for his purchases,” Beedle explained, rooting through the backpack. “I don’t have much use for it, but you seem like the type of guy who would!”

Link watched as Beedle pulled a large, jagged black sword out of his bag. The blade was polished, but the handle was worn; this sword had clearly seen many years of use. Beedle staggered under the weight of the sword as he lifted it from the bag, then offered it hilt-first towards Link. “You’ve always been such a loyal customer, so it’s yours if you want it!” Beedle said, smiling brightly.

Link pondered for a moment; there was something strange about this weapon. Perhaps it was the way the blade twisted and distorted whatever it reflected; perhaps it was the similarity as well as stark contrast to the Master Sword, hanging silently on his back. Whatever it was, something about this sword unsettled him.

Well, it couldn’t be worse than wielding a skeletal Moblin arm, right?

Link nodded, taking the sword by the hilt. He barely registered Beedle’s “thank you,” though; another voice filled his ears as soon as he placed his hands on the weapon.

_ “It had to be you, didn’t it.” _

Link blinked in surprise, looking down at the sword in his hand. Did it just...talk to him?

_ “I’ve changed hands many times over the ages, but to end up in  _ yours _ , of all people’s...that’s a cruel sort of irony.” _

Yep. It definitely just talked to him.

Link looked back up at Beedle, who was staring at him with a concerned look. “Link? Are you alright?”

Link nodded, attaching the sword to his hip for the moment. He didn’t have time to unpack all that, especially with this many people around.

Beedle smiled. “Good! Did you want to buy anything? I’ve got arrows back in stock!”

As he handed Beedle his rupees, Link did his best to ignore the sword’s remark about his spending habits.

The road beside the Great Plateau was bathed in pale light as the moon, a thin sliver amongst a myriad of shining stars, made its way across the night sky. A grumble from Link’s stomach urged him to stop for the night; he tied Shortcake to a nearby tree and got to work building a fire, placing a bundle of wood onto the ground next to some flint. He didn’t even notice the sword on his hip until it began to speak to him again.

_ “And just how are you going to start a fire from that?” _

Link lifted the sword with both hands and faced the flint. “Like this,” he replied as he swung the sword forward. The flint sparked, and the wood caught; soon, he had a roaring fire.

_ “How boorish!” _ the sword exclaimed.  _ “Using me for such a base purpose. Do you even know who I am?” _

“No,” Link answered, sitting down in front of the flames. “You haven’t told me.”

The sword was silent for a moment; Link filled the silence by roasting a drumstick.  _ “So your kind has forgotten,”  _ it finally continued.  _ “You’ve forgotten your history.” _

Before Link could even begin to ponder what that meant, the sword continued to speak.  _ “I am the blade of the Demon King, Demise,”  _ it explained.  _ “You may call me Ghirahim. Were it several thousand years ago, I would have insisted on my full title of Lord, but I’m hardly a lord now, am I?” _

Link shrugged as he took a bite of poultry. 

_ “In any case, I faithfully served King Demise until his downfall,” _ Ghirahim continued.  _ “I then worked to resurrect him and was successful...until he fell again, and I was reduced to this.” _

“And you’ve been that way ever since?” Link asked, mouth full of meat.

_ “Don’t speak with your mouth full,” _ Ghirahim chastised.  _ “But yes. I’ve been this way for thousands upon thousands of years now. Frankly, I’m not even sure I could return to my other form…” _

“Would you want to?”

_ “Of course I would!”  _ Ghirahim replied with what sounded like a scoff.  _ “Do you think  _ you’d _ enjoy having other people decide where you go your entire life? It’s humiliating!” _

Link tossed the bone to the side, frowning. “That’s a word for it.”

Ghirahim fell silent, and for a moment, Link worried that he’d offended the sword. Soon, however, he spoke back up.  _ “In any case, it seems I’ve landed in your hands now. I’m at your mercy once again,  hero.” _

Link stared into the fire, fidgeting idly with the hem of his tunic. “Okay. Can you wake me up if monsters approach while I’m asleep?”

Ghirahim sighed.  _ “Reduced to a mere bodyguard. The  _ indignity _ of it all.” _

“You’re allowed to say no—”

_ “Oh no, I’ll do it. I just have to be dramatic first.” _

_ “Widen your feet and lower your center of gravity, boy.” _

Link jumped to the side as the mechanical sentry in front of him thrust a spear at his torso. In the brief opening, he lunged forward and attacked the robot with the Master Sword, trying his best to ignore the dead weight on his hip. It didn’t help that said dead weight was critiquing everything about his fighting style.

_ “Honestly, how have you gotten this far with a grip like that?” _ Ghirahim continued.  _ “Your sword should be looser in your hand. And don’t hide behind your shield—” _

“Can you  _ please _ just let me take care of this?!” Link interrupted, dashing away as the robot wound up for its laser attack. 

_ “Fine, then. Get yourself killed on account of shoddy swordsmanship.” _

Link grit his teeth, launching himself into the air with his paraglider. He launched an arrow into the eye of the machine, landing gently on the ground as the robot sputtered and collapsed momentarily.

_ “Your bow skills have improved over the years, though, so that’s something,”  _ Ghirahim mused as Link hacked at the robot. 

The robot returned to life, jumping back several feet before turning blue and beginning to vibrate. Knowing what was coming next, Link sheathed the Master Sword and held his shield out in front of him.

_ “What are you doing?”  _ Ghirahim asked. 

Link ignored him, keeping his focus on the robot.

_ “You need to move,”  _ Ghirahim insisted.  _ “It’s getting ready for something.” _

Still ignoring him, Link braced himself.

_ “If you do not move  _ right now, _ boy, you will die!” _

Ghirahim’s warnings came too late. The robot launched a powerful beam of light towards Link, who expertly deflected it straight back. The beam made contact, and the robot smoked and sputtered a bit before dropping its weapons and exploding.

Link sent a pointed look towards the sword at his hip, bending over and picking up the spear and axe that belonged to the robot. “Still think I need improvement?” he asked, heading for the now-opened door at the end of the shrine.

Ghirahim scoffed.  _ “You’re not  _ as _ hopeless as I initially thought, I suppose.” _

Link smiled to himself. “I’ll take that.”

A pale, full moon hung in the sky as Link sat in front of a fire on the Tabantha frontier. Beside him, Ghirahim lay in the grass, his blade reflecting the moon and turning it a light reddish color. Shortcake was tethered to a tree a short distance away, and she shook her head as a cold breeze drifted over the small campsite.

_ “Tell me something, boy,”  _ Ghirahim stated, breaking the silence.  _ “If you weren’t a hero, what would you be?” _

Link poked the fire idly, turning the question over in his mind. “Probably a knight,” he answered. “It’s what my dad was, so I’m told.”

_ “But is it what  _ you _ want?” _

Link blinked in surprise. “I’ve...never really thought about that.” He sat back on his hands, gazing up at the sky. “I’ve never had the chance to do what I want. Just what other people need me to do.”

He sat up and glanced at the sword next to him. “What would  _ you _ do if you didn’t serve Demise?”

Ghirahim laughed hollowly.  _ “I cannot do anything but that. I wasn’t forged for anything else.” _

“But Demise is gone,” Link persisted. “And if you have any loyalty to Ganon, I haven’t seen it.”

Ghirahim was silent. A few feet away, Shortcake whinnied and shook her head. The fire flickered in the soft breeze, and Link shivered a bit in the sudden chill.

_ “How strange,” _ Ghirahim finally said.  _ “I’ve had thousands of years to ponder the question of what I want, and I haven’t even scratched the surface.” _

Link shifted, leaning closer to the fire. “What have you been thinking about?”

_ “Oh, plenty of things. You Hylians have such curious senses of fashion. That’s kept me busy for a good long while.” _ The fire flickered again, and the light bounced off of Ghirahim’s blade.  _ “I’ve also been thinking about...him. Lately, I find I’m not sure how he felt about me.” _

Link frowned. “What do you mean?”

_ “Well, what would you do if someone devoted their life to you and put years and years into the process of reviving you? Out of curiosity.” _

“Uh, I’d probably say thank you?” Link replied, unsure of his answer to this strange question.

_ “That’s one more thing than Demise said.” _

Link turned to face Ghirahim fully, frowning again. “You mean once he was finally revived he didn’t say  _ anything _ to you?”

_ “Not a word,”  _ Ghirahim answered.  _ “And then he went and lost, undoing all those years of hard work in a single battle.” _

For a moment, it sounded like Ghirahim sighed; Link wasn’t sure. Every sound the sword made seemed distorted somehow, almost like he was speaking through a sheet of glass.  _ “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.” _

“I asked.” 

_ “Ah.” _ Link returned his gaze to the slowly-dying fire as Ghirahim reflected the stars above.  _ “Well, in any case, it’s not like I have much choice. Being a blade prevents me from doing much of anything at the moment.” _

Link hummed in agreement, stoking the fire a bit more. “Will you keep an eye out while I’m asleep?”

_ “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” _

Link skidded backwards as he parried a Lynel’s attack, dirt flying up from the ground beneath him. The Lynel let out a roar, then inhaled to shoot fire at the hero; the beast was on the ropes, but wouldn’t go down without a fight. Reacting quickly, Link ran to his right, jumping over a rock in his way as he dodged the first and second fireballs with ease.

_ “You’ve got a Lizalfos advancing on your left,”  _ Ghirahim said.  _ “Careful.” _

Link nodded, jumping out of the way of the third fireball. Sure enough, a red Lizalfos scurried up to him; once it got within a few feet, it jumped, waving its boomerang wildly. Link rolled out of the way, then slashed at the lizard with the Master Sword. The Lizalfos flew backward, but stood back up quickly and hit Link in the face with its tongue. Link rubbed his cheek, then rushed forward and slashed at the Lizalfos again. This time, his attack was fatal.

Link sighed in relief, picking up the Lizalfos’s boomerang. His relief was short lived, however; a roar from close behind him caught his attention. He barely registered Ghirahim’s shout as he wheeled around to see the Lynel raising its blade high in the air. 

Link shut his eyes tight, bracing himself for the inevitable…

...but instead, he heard the sound of metal on metal, and felt nothing.

He opened his eyes and faintly realized that the sword usually at his hip was gone; he was more distracted by the man currently beating the ever-loving daylights out of the Lynel directly in front of him. His deep grey skin was a stark contrast with his snow-white hair, which in turn was a contrast with the blood-red cape on his shoulders. His hand, gloved in white, held a pitch-black rapier, seemingly made out of the same metal as the sword he’d been not five seconds ago. 

The Lynel collapsed, dissolving into smoke as it dropped its weapons. The world seemed to slow to a stop as silence fell over the small battlefield. Ghirahim dispelled his rapier, looking at his hands in disbelief. Link, in turn, looked at Ghirahim in disbelief.

“So this is what you look like?” Link asked, finally breaking the silence.

Ghirahim turned to face him, as if noticing for the first time that he was there. He then smirked, flipping his hair nonchalantly. “Perfection, is it not?” he replied, his voice clear and undistorted. “I must admit, I missed this form more than I thought.”

He held an arm out in front of him, admiring it with a soft smile on his face. Link ducked under the arm, picking up the Lynel’s weapon and materials. “So,” Link mused, placing the Lynel's shock arrows in his quiver. “Now that you’ve got a body, what are you going to do?”

Ghirahim blinked in surprise, turning to face Link. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “I wasn’t really planning on getting this back. You really have a knack for doing the impossible, don’t you?”

Link rolled his eyes. “ _ I _ didn’t do anything. That was all you.”

“But you made me do it.” Ghirahim ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky. “I think I’ll stick around you for a while. Someone has to teach you how to dress, after all.”

“You do realize that means fighting the incarnation of Demise, right?” Link asked, meeting Ghirahim’s gaze.

“Oh, please,” Ghirahim scoffed. “You know my thoughts on that monstrosity in the castle by now.”

Link laughed. “What did you call it? A ‘festering sore on the face of the entire continent?’”

“I’m so flattered you remembered!” Ghirahim flipped his hair again, a confident smirk plastered on his face. “In all seriousness, though, you can’t get rid of me that easily, boy.”

“Alright,” Link replied, dusting off his tunic. “As long as you don’t feel like you have to.”

Ghirahim chuckled, following Link towards the path at the side of the field. 

“This is my choice, Link.”


End file.
